


Misery Loves Company

by idrilhadhafang



Series: Clone Wars Rewrite Side Stories [1]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (TV 2008)
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steela is drunk and angsty, and Anakin has issues. Some one-sided Steela/Lux and Steela/Anakin. Playing around in the CW-rewrite-verse again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misery Loves Company

TITLE: Misery Loves Company

SUMMARY: In which Steela is drunk and angsty, and Anakin has issues. Some one-sided Steela/Lux and Steela/Anakin. Playing around in the CW-rewrite-verse again.  


DISCLAIMER: I own jack shit.  
  
PROMPT: In Vino Veritas/Drunkfic

The music in the cantina was kriffing terrible.

It was probably a sweeping generalization to make, at least from some people's points of view, but if nothing else, Anakin thought, it was true. Even as he pushed past the other patrons -- who no doubt just wanted to take a bite out of him, especially that one Gamorrean at the counter. Or perhaps it was just his imagination -- he almost couldn't wait to get out of this wretched cantina if only to get Steela back to the camp. "Hey," he said. "Steela? Steela!"

He knew it wasn't exactly the most subtle approach, but considering how loudly the music was blaring, how kriffing obnoxious it was -- _yes, good fellow, we already know that you shouldn't have let that juma juice out in the rain; why did you have to compose a song about it that sounds like being hit in the head repeatedly with a frying pan? --_ he couldn't say that he really had any time for any sort of "subtle" approach. Mercifully, if nothing else, the song seemed to be ending, replaced with some sort of song entirely in Bith. The best Anakin could detect, it was something about furniture. He pushed his way through the crowd of patrons to get to Steela's table. And there she was, sitting by herself, nursing a juma, hair out of its traditional style and hanging around her face.

"No need to shout, Skywalker," she said, and if nothing else, she sounded almost positively drunk -- weary drunk, that is. "I'm pretty sure a deaf man could hear you."

"I know, I know." Anakin sat down at the table. "Look, maybe it's just me, but I'm pretty sure that you shouldn't get plastered on juma -- "

"Yeah, I know." A slight hiccup. "I swear this sort of juma should be made illegal."

Anakin sighed. "That's not really the point." In the background, the Bith song continued on -- the singer seemed to be hitting those high notes (or the Bith equivalent) pretty well, Anakin thought. _No,_ he reproved himself, _not now_. He continued. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure that you shouldn't get plastered on juma before we have a meeting with the Council."

Steela gave him a glare that if nothing else seemed to remind him of Obi-Wan when Anakin had said something particularly (at least from Obi-Wan's point of view) nonsensical. "Look, Skywalker," she said, "Maybe you're a bit too uptight for your own good -- "

"I am not," Anakin said. "I'd just prefer you to meet with the Council tomorrow without a hangover."

"Do I look like I care?" Another hiccup. "The war's been going to complete shit, people are dying, Dooku and the Separatists just won't...fuck off, and you're telling me I can't even order a juma?"

"Steela -- "

"Look," Steela said, "I'm pretty sure the only way this is going to have a remotely happy ending is if Rash and Dooku go fuck themselves. Honestly." Another hiccup. "Fucking insane."

Anakin furrowed his brow. "So that's why you're doing all this?"

"No _stang_ , General Obvious!" Steela downed another cup of juma. "I mean, really, considering everything else that's happened, wouldn't you get drunk off your ass too?"

"I've been tempted," Anakin said. If nothing else, the only thing that had kept him from hitting the cantina immediately was the matter that he doubted he wanted to get in trouble for, say, getting severely drunk and having to deliver a speech to the clones shortly after. Perhaps some people could get drunk and still give a decent speech, but Anakin doubted he was one of those people. That and after that one incident with Obi-Wan, juma, and a cart, Anakin was certain that if nothing else, he and juma did not mix.

Obi-Wan had once said he had made a particularly annoying drunk anyway. Not in those terms, but close enough.

Steela continued on. "And I'm really goddamn sick of Ahsoka and Lux."

"In what way?"

Steela sighed. "He keeps looking in her direction and won't spare a damn chance for me." She ran a hand through her hair. "Right in front of him and he gives not one stang about it. Not one."

Anakin bit his lip. Suddenly, if nothing else, he felt extremely uncomfortable. Unrequited love was not fun; he knew enough about it during that one period with Padme where she seemed to be pushing him actively away (it wasn't that she didn't care for him, but because she thought she was being kind, never mind that pushing him away hurt more than anything else), and yet there was something about being caught, in a sense, between taking Ahsoka's side and taking Steela's...

"Steela," he said, "I'm pretty sure that if nothing else, I doubt Ahsoka and Lux can...be together." There was something about saying it that almost hurt. _You shouldn't be saying that about your own Padawan_ , something in him said -- it almost sounded like Padme, really; then again, that wasn't surprising, as she had all but become his inner voice of reason at times. He had always wanted to be like her, tried (odd as it sounded) to be like her, even if he didn't always succeed -- and yet it was true.

"Ridiculous Jedi Code again?"

"Pretty much," Anakin said. He couldn't argue with Steela about how ridiculous the Jedi Code was, at least when one got down to it.

"Fuckin' sick of the other Jedi." If nothing else, Steela seemed to be on quite the roll right now. Anakin doubted he had ever seen her so...rambly. And ranty. "How damn conceited they are. Thinkin' that making a simple mistake makes ya selfish -- how do you even put up with them, General?"

Something about the question was enough to catch Anakin genuinely off-guard. "Well," he said, "I...I attempt to swallow my pride." _There, Master Yoda,_ a part of him thought. _I didn't use the word "try". Happy now?_

Steela snorted. "Ya mean being a stanging doormat."

"I am not -- " If nothing else, Anakin knew that he shouldn't be getting that angry; after all, Steela was drunk. And yet... "Steela," he said, "I just do my best." _Another victory against "can't say try"..._

Steela continued. "Ash at least sticks up for herself. Why can't you do the same?"

Anakin bit his lip. "I don't know," he said. "I just..." He sighed and rubbed his temples; if nothing else, if there was a reason, none seemed to come to mind. At least, the awful cantina music seemed to be blotting out any reasons.

Steela went on. "You...ya really piss me off sometimes, General."

"I'm sorry."

Steela scoffed. "See what I mean?"

"All right," Anakin said, "Why do I piss you off?"

"I just told you earlier," Steela said, "You don't stand up for yourself."

"Besides that."

"You have a goddamn hero's complex."

"I won't deny that." If nothing else, it was something Anakin had a feeling would be his downfall -- at least, Obi-Wan and the others kept telling him that.

"You're overprotective, you're impulsive...basically, in my not-so-humble opinion as one of those people who follow you, you're _nuts_!" Another hiccup. And another glass of juma, really.

"Okay, fair enough." If nothing else, he had heard worse at times from Obi-Wan. That one time when Obi-Wan accused him of having an attitude problem, for example, even though if nothing else, what he had done was make a comment about being bored. A bit tactless, but still...

Then again, Obi-Wan, lovely as he was, could be incredibly self-righteous sometimes. He was as wise as Master Yoda and as powerful as Mace Windu, that could not be denied. But if nothing else, if Anakin had learned anything more obvious about Obi-Wan, he could be incredibly insensitive, and self-righteous. It didn't make Anakin love him (so to speak) any less, but he wished that Obi-Wan would at least, sometimes, simply _stop doing that_.

"So," Anakin said, trying to joke if only a bit, "What do you like about me?"

"Well...you're pretty brilliant. At least for a General. And contrary to what Kenobi says, y'don't whine that much."

Anakin laughed. "I mostly bottle it up." _Not that it helps_...

"And you've got _damn_ good hair."

"Oh." If nothing else, Anakin thought, it was rather confusing, that idea. Mostly, if nothing else, he thought he was in need of a shower. Then again, he guessed that the battlefield would do that to you.

"And pretty eyes."

"Well, thank you. On both fronts."

Steela continued. "Not to mention you're the damn craziest, most amazing man I've ever met. At least one of them." A quick grin. "Probably would've high-tailed it out of there if it weren' for you."

"It can't be...that bad, Steela." Then again, Anakin supposed that even that was a lie. After all, in between things like Rash, and that terrifying near-miss with Ahsoka and the younglings, and the matter of Carida, and so many other things...the best Anakin could console himself with was the fact that number one, it was going to be over soon ( _good luck with that_ , he thought, if only sardonically), number two, it can't get any worse than it already has ( _a guaranteed backfire_ _for sure_ ), and number three, no matter how bad it got, it wasn't really that bad. If anything else, there was Rex and Cody and the others, and if nothing else...

There was something about simply thinking about them that formed a lump in Anakin's throat. In a way, at least, they were his children. Well, not entirely. But he had come up with the idea of giving them names -- Rex, Cody, and so on and so forth. It didn't feel right to just refer to them as simply units. And if nothing else, they were good, honorable men who didn't deserve to be treated, at least at times, as they were. Even thinking about creatures like Krell was enough to make his blood boil. The clones deserved so much more. They all deserved so much more. And yet here they were, suffering day in and day out, simply because they were trying to do the right thing.

If nothing else, it wasn't the breaking away from the Republic bit that was bad; Anakin knew he'd be lying if he said the Republic had no flaws. But their methods...if nothing else, all those things he did, and everything he felt from, say, Death Watch bombing that one helpless village was enough to make him wish that he could shoot every last stanging Separatist ship out of the sky.

Except he couldn't do it. Anger was the path to the Dark Side, after all. And after what he had done at the Tusken camp so long ago, and the matter of that interrogation to save Offee, and Cad Bane, and so many other places, Anakin doubted he wanted to go there again. _Don't make me go back there, don't make me go back, I'm trying so hard to be a good Jedi, I want to be a good Jedi, don't make me go back..._

Even the knowledge that he couldn't really "make" himself go back wasn't much of a comfort. Because if nothing else, there seemed to be times when the Dark Side itself seemed to be calling to him, tugging at him. And even trying to repeat the words of Master Yoda and Obi-Wan and Master Ki Adi-Mundi and so many others in his head didn't hold back those feelings. _Don't make me go back, don't make me go back, just make it go away..._

Steela still looked up to him, really, at least in a way. One day, Anakin mused -- one day she would have to see that he wasn't perfect, and never would be. That if nothing else, he was a madman with a lightsaber, and it was probably time to not look up to him. He only prayed that day would never come. _I'm trying to hold onto you the best I can..._ And the idea of hurting her was more than he could bear.

"Steela," he said, after a long while, "Let's get back to camp."

It was long after he had finally gotten her to bed that Anakin stood over her, watching her if only for a bit. He wanted to at least be there for her and make sure that she was all right. It was the least he could do, after everything else. Because he was far from perfect, the sheer opposite of perfect, but it didn't mean he couldn't keep trying. 

And one day, he would be perfect. One day, the Masters would have a reason to be proud of him. One day...  
  .  



End file.
